


shouldn't we be getting together

by The_Eclectic_Bookworm



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/M, this is like so self-indulgent but i'm really not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 21:43:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19411987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eclectic_Bookworm/pseuds/The_Eclectic_Bookworm
Summary: She hadn’t heard from Rupert for five years, and had all but forgotten about him when Ripper showed up. Ripper, who had gone out of his way toantagonizeher since day one, who teased her for cutting her hair and called herJannainstead ofJennyand actednothinglike her sweet summer camp friend from years ago. It had felt like some kind of a betrayal, seeing how little he cared about her, when Rupert Giles had been her first and only kiss.





	shouldn't we be getting together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JackalopingIntoTheVoid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackalopingIntoTheVoid/gifts).



> for jack, because....this isn't Technically a ripper au fic, but i know i wouldn't have written it had we not spent so much time talking about ripper and jenny being idiots. :'D

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP,” Jenny shouted out the window, leaning out so far that she very nearly lost her balance. Hands on her waist pulled her back in, and she turned, bubbling over with righteous fury, to unleash her continued grievances against the asshole in the cabin next door who _would not stop playing his goddamn guitar._ “He does this every day!” she continued, somehow managing to increase in volume with each word. “Every goddamn day! And I just have to deal with it, because he’s _sooo_ smart and _sooo_ great and _sooo_ good with the kids—”

“Okay, maybe chill a little,” said Angel. “The kids don’t mind the guitar, but they _definitely_ mind you yelling.”

“You’re just saying that because you and Spike make out all the time by the lake,” said Jenny, glaring up at him. “I bet Ripper told Spike to tell you to tell me to stop yelling at him. I bet that’s what’s going on here.”

“So first of all,” said Angel, “I am dating _Darla—”_

“Worst life decision ever,” said Jenny.

“—which means that I cannot confirm or deny any hypothetical lakeside makeouts,” Angel finished, fixing Jenny with a firm (and extremely unconvincing) stare, “because Darla would _eviscerate_ Spike if she thought he was poaching her territory.”

“I’m sorry, did you just call yourself her _territory?”_

“And second,” said Angel, “do you really think I would take orders from _Spike?_ This is just because you’re gonna get yourself fired, and then I’ll have to lead Arts and Crafts all the time. I _hate_ Arts and Crafts.” He considered. “Plus, do you really think _Spike_ would take orders from _Ripper?”_

This was a fair point. Mostly Jenny was just mad. She sat down on her bed, still flushed with indignation. “He’s such a jerk,” she said. “It’s lights-out after ten pm, and there he is, still playing that _stupid_ guitar—”

“Why do you care so much about Ripper?” Angel asked curiously, sitting down on his own bed and fumbling in his backpack for his reading glasses.

Jenny flushed, and didn’t answer.

* * *

The reason that Jenny cared so much about Ripper had its roots in five summers ago, when Janna and Rupert had shown up as twelve-year-old campers and immediately hit it off. Rupert was shy, and didn’t really like talking to anyone; Janna liked people a lot, but was too awkward and loud to really connect with most of the girls at her middle school. They’d sat together during Arts and Crafts. Janna had made a very large drawing of a dinosaur eating a princess. She’d looked over to Rupert’s paper and seen that he had written his name in Circular Gallifreyan, which had sparked a loud and passionate conversation about Doctor Who, and then they’d just been friends. That was the way it worked when you were twelve.

Rupert’s parents were taking the summer to travel around America for their jobs (he wasn’t quite sure what they did, but said vaguely that it had something to do with history and college and giving lots of long, boring talks), and they’d unceremoniously dropped him at the first available summer camp. He’d brought a whole bunch of Percy Jackson books with him and let Janna borrow a few, but there were some that he made her read in his cabin because they were his _favorites._ He didn’t have any Pokémon cards, so she gave him three, because he was in a whole new country and she thought that _maybe_ that warranted some kindness. (They were her least favorite Pokémon cards, but she figured it still counted as being nice if he didn’t know that.)

At the end of the summer, when his parents came to pick him up, he’d kissed Janna on the cheek in front of the _whole camp,_ and seventh-grade rules stated that that meant he was her boyfriend. Janna had had to run up and clarify that she couldn’t have a boyfriend who lived _all the way in England,_ and Rupert’s face had fallen, but he’d said that at least he’d gotten about five minutes of her being his girlfriend. And that had been very nice of him, so Janna had kissed _him_ , realized with horror that she had kissed him in front of his _parents,_ and then ran away very fast because she was embarrassed.

She hadn’t heard from Rupert for five years, and had all but forgotten about him when Ripper showed up. Ripper, who had gone out of his way to _antagonize_ her since day one, who teased her for cutting her hair and called her _Janna_ instead of Jenny and acted _nothing_ like her sweet summer camp friend from years ago. It had felt like some kind of a betrayal, seeing how little he cared about her, when Rupert Giles had been her first and only kiss.

* * *

“Good morning, Janna,” said Ripper, who was doing that Unfair Leaning Thing against the doorway to the mess hall. “Sleep well?”

“Would it _kill_ you to _not_ play your guitar after lights out?” said Jenny thinly.

“Yes,” said Ripper very seriously. “I would die. Lack of guitar would kill me and Spike would have to throw my body into the lake.”

“Ha ha.” Jenny glared at him. “I’m serious. That’s directly against camp rules.”

“Since when were you a rule-follower, Janna?” said Ripper, leaning forward to tug at a strand of her hair. Jenny glared up at him. “Last time we met, _you_ were the one dragging _me_ into trouble—”

“Yeah, well, I grew up,” said Jenny coolly. “Looks like you didn’t.”

Ripper’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she thought she could see sweet, dorky Rupert in his hurt expression. But then—

“Ripper Ripper Ripper Ripper!” yelled a voice, and a blonde blur _zoomed_ past Jenny, nearly knocking a precariously-leaning Ripper off his feet. “I found a bug!” announced Buffy Summers, holding it up to Ripper’s face. “It’s a big bug! Xander says it’s a poison bug but I said what does he know—”

“Looks like a spider,” Ripper observed, a small quaver in his voice. Jenny snickered. Over Buffy’s head, Ripper shot her a Look. “Why don’t you show it to Jenny, too, Buff?” he asked innocently.

Buffy whirled, beaming; Jenny immediately stepped back. “I’m good,” she said. “Not really a bug person.”

“Neither is Xander,” said Buffy conversationally. “He barfed all over the picnic table when I showed it to him.”

“Oh—great,” said Jenny. “Is someone gonna get on cleaning that up?”

“Well, you’re not a bug person,” said Ripper. “Shouldn’t that be your job?”

That, Jenny thought. That was the first item on her List Of Reasons To Hate Ripper. He always somehow managed to finagle his way out of the grosser camp jobs, simply by being in the right place at the right time. And more often than not, Jenny ended up with whatever job Ripper had managed _not_ to have, and _he_ ended up hanging with the kids or playing songs for everyone on his guitar or sneaking off to hang out with Spike’s crew by the lake. Like, would it _kill him_ to take this job seriously? Why the hell did he even sign on if he was just going to—

“Uh, Jenny?” said Angel. “You okay? You’ve been staring into space and you look like you want to kill someone.”

“ _HHHHH,”_ said Jenny—it was intended as a sigh, but came out more of a shriek—and stomped off to clean the picnic table.

* * *

_List Of Reasons That Ripper Is The Worst Person Ever:_

_1: Sneaks his way out of work._

_2: His best friend is Spike._

_3: Breaks literally all the camp rules._

_4: Doesn’t listen to me when I tell him to stop breaking literally all the camp rules._

_5: Never gave me back my Pokémon cards._

_6:_

Jenny tapped her pencil against her chin, considering.

_6: Unfairly attractive._

It was a list for _her,_ not for anyone else. She was allowed to be mad about the fact that somehow, the awkward, gangly kid of five summers ago had turned into an artfully disheveled, lanky-yet-muscled, green-eyed dreamboat—and didn’t have any of the decent qualities that had inspired her to give him her first kiss. Like, she’d _totally_ want to date him if he wasn’t so absurdly annoying! And if he _wasn’t_ so absurdly annoying—

Jenny colored, cutting off that train of thought before it could go any further. Hastily, she began to scribble down another item for the list.

_7: Plays guitar really loudly when I’m trying to_

As if on cue, the guitar started up again. It wasn’t _bad—_ he was actually pretty talented. It was just that the _principle_ of the thing bothered Jenny. She’d asked him like _nine times_ to stop and he _never did!_ Would it _kill him_ to listen to her, like, _once?_ She was a counselor here last year, and this was his first year, she had _some_ seniority here—

“Hey, Jenny,” said Angel awkwardly, sticking his head in. “Spike and his crew are hanging out by the lake, and I—uh, I mean, Darla—she knows _we’re_ friends, she doesn’t mind that, but if she hears from someone that I headed down by myself to a group with Drusilla in it—”

Jenny really didn’t have the energy to dissect Angel’s insane relationship drama. “Okay,” she said. “As long as I get to yell at Ripper about him playing his guitar.”

“It’s not lights-out,” Angel pointed out. “Counselors are allowed to make noise during their time off, and it’s not like Ripper’s playing heavy metal. You don’t really have a reason to—”

“Can it or I’m not coming with you.”

“Jenny, what is your _deal_ with him?” said Angel. “He’s really not that bad. I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to get a rise out of you at this point.”

“Yeah? Well, then, _that’s_ my deal with him,” said Jenny flatly. “I don’t like people who mess other people around just for fun.” Flushed from a mixture of anger and summer heat, she hurried past Angel, stepping into her flip-flops at their cabin door before heading down the trail and over towards the lake.

Spike was floating around in a giant inner tube decorated to look like a donut, his girlfriend Drusilla in his lap. On the beach, Anya Jenkins, who had been a counselor at this camp since _Jenny_ was a camper, was getting her fingernails painted by Darla, who kissed Angel when he sat down next to her.

 _“Careful!”_ said Anya very loudly. “Keep your eyes on my nails! You’re going to smudge the aqua!”

“God, you’re high-maintenance,” said Darla. “Chill out.” She went back to painting Anya’s nails.

Ripper, sitting a few feet away from Anya, looked up to grin broadly at Jenny. “Hey, Janna,” he said, “want me to play you a song?”

“I’d rather drown in the lake,” said Jenny, glaring at him.

Ripper’s face fell. “Well, all right,” he said, and went back to playing.

“You know he likes you, right?” said Anya conspiratorially, voice lowered so that Ripper couldn’t hear. “He’s totally planning to ask you out on the last day of camp. _I_ heard he’s going to college in America.”

“I don’t know about _that,_ ” said Darla, finishing Anya’s pinky nail off with a little glittery skull.

 _“Thank_ you,” said Jenny. “Ripper wouldn’t ask me out in a _million_ years—”

“Oh, no, Ripper is ridiculously enamored with you,” said Darla. “It’s pathetic. I’m just saying that _I_ heard his dad wants him to go to one of those fancy British colleges. He was talking to my mom about it when we all showed up at camp—lots of stuff about how Ripper needs some good old-fashioned straightening out.” She grinned at Jenny. “Looks like someone agrees with you about _that,_ at least.”

But Jenny didn’t—she didn’t like the way _straightening out_ sounded, when it came to Ripper. _He’s fine the way he is,_ she thought with a flare of anger, and— _that_ startled her. That caught her _really_ off guard, because she _hated_ Ripper. She had a _list of reasons_ relating to hating Ripper. Obviously she’d agree with Ripper’s dad that Ripper needed a crash course in manners and morals.

Right?

 _“Jenny, got your number and I’ve got you for the summer,”_ Ripper shouted, playing purposefully off-key. _“It’s a bummer that things go so fast.”_

Jenny threw some dirt at him. He shook it off, grinning up at her, and it was the same smile he’d given her when she’d shoved the Pokémon cards across the table five years ago. Something about that made color rise to her cheeks; pointedly, she directed her attention back to Anya and Darla. “Darla, paint my nails too?” she said, trying to keep her voice easy-breezy.

Darla gave her a smugly knowing look, but nodded.

* * *

“Jenny, hi, sit with me!” said Willow at dinner, eyes bright and shy. Though her friends had taken a little longer to warm to any counselor other than Ripper, Willow had latched onto Jenny from the moment she’d seen the _Best Bi_ sticker on Jenny’s phone case. “This is Tara,” Willow announced, and Jenny noticed that Willow was holding hands with the tiny wallflower of a girl who always peeled off to do her own thing during Arts and Crafts. “We’re girlfriends now. We go to the same school but we’ve never talked before, isn’t that funny?”

“The funniest,” Jenny agreed.

Tara gave Jenny a quavery smile and a little wave. “W-w-willow says you’re n-nice,” she said.

“She’s the _nicest,”_ Willow agreed emphatically. “She’s like us, she likes girls! Only she’s Ripper’s girlfriend, so she likes boys too—”

“Wait, what?” said Jenny.

Willow blinked, looking a little confused. “Aren’t you Ripper’s girlfriend?” she said. “He says you are. And out of _all_ the camp counselors you only talk to Ripper, except sometimes you talk to Angel, but Ripper says you only talk to Angel ‘cause you and Angel are bros. Are you and Angel bros, or is _he_ your real boyfriend?”

Slowly, Jenny turned to look at Ripper, hoping very hard that her expression conveyed how _much_ she intended to murder him. Ripper, sitting a few seats away on the other side of the table, was sipping cheerfully from a juice box, but frowned a little when he caught Jenny’s eye, putting his drink down. _You okay?_ he mouthed.

Jenny snapped. She stood up, nearly knocking over her glass of lemonade, and _vaulted_ over the table, feeling extremely goddamn grateful for those three years of dance classes. Grabbing Ripper by the front of the shirt, she hissed, _“Outside. Now.”_

Ripper _beamed_ up at her, all starry-eyed. “All right,” he said.

Ignoring the loud, intrigued chatter and the wide-eyed middle-schoolers all but falling out of their chairs to look at them, Jenny dragged Ripper out into the sunlight, pushing him up against the wall. Irritated beyond belief, she stepped back, crossing her arms and glaring up at him. “What the _hell_ is your problem?” she demanded.

Ripper was still smiling, a soft, delighted little grin that _totally_ didn’t do anything to Jenny’s insides. Not even a little bit. “You know, I’ve been trying to get you alone since the beginning of camp?” he said. “Meant to tease you just to make you laugh, ‘cause that used to work when we were twelve, but then I just started teasing you to try and get you to drag me outside so I could…” He blushed, grin fading. “Guess I might’ve overly romanticized the moment,” he said.

 _“What?”_ said Jenny, indignation giving way to confusion.

“Well,” said Ripper, drawing out the word, “you said I couldn’t be your boyfriend ‘cause I was all the way in England, didn’t you?”

“…yes?” said Jenny, bemused.

“And now I’m not,” said Ripper. “So stands to reason I’m your boyfriend again, aren’t I?”

Jenny stared at him, absolutely lost for words. “You are so dumb,” she said. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t _absolutely_ lost for words. “You are the dumbest—you are the stupidest fucking person from here to _Gallifrey.”_

Ripper’s face fell. “Oh,” he said. His voice caught. “Well. Guess I—Spike said that if you got mad all the time, that probably meant you cared, but—what does Spike know, he’s rubbish. I didn’t _mean_ to bother you, Jenny, honest, I just—you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and I still don’t know _shit_ about how to tell you it, so I’ll—”

He was backing away, towards the mess hall, and a little voice in Jenny’s head said _no!_ She grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back towards her, and all of a sudden she felt short of breath and nervous and all kinds of— “I haven’t really kissed, um, anybody, since—” she blurted out.

Ripper’s eyes widened. “I sort of did kiss a few people,” he said. “But it was just for my own edification—”

It was the _edification_ that did it, a Rupert word in that adorably Ripper accent. But it was also that he _cared,_ he _did,_ and that was _all_ she’d wanted when she’d seen him again, after missing him for years and years without ever wanting to admit to it. Without even having to think about it, Jenny stood on tiptoe and kissed him, and by some kind of magic (or possibly, she would realize later, just some run-of-the-mill teenage idiocy), the bottled-up resentment and frustration and _hurt_ inside her turned out to be _all because she’d wanted to kiss him._ Whoever could have guessed it? (Angel, definitely. Darla, probably. Pretty much all the campers, almost certainly.)

Ripper smiled against her mouth and kissed her back, and this one was a _lot_ better than a split-second, off-center peck. His hands gripped her elbows, pulling her into him, and he definitely _did_ know what he was doing. “Remind me to thank those other people,” she whispered, giggling a little as he kissed her again.

“Mm, no,” said Ripper. “Don’t think I’m interested in seeing them again. Been waiting for _you—_ ” he kissed her again, again, _again_ — “—long enough.”

* * *

“So where _are_ you going to college?”

“America,” said Ripper decisively.

Jenny started laughing. “Is this because I said—”

“You made an _impression,_ Calendar,” said Ripper, kissing her neck, then rolling over onto his side in the grass. They were sprawled under the stars, Jenny lying on Ripper’s spread-out leather jacket, Ripper already smudged with grass and dirt but not really minding that much. He threw an arm over her stomach, pressing another kiss to her shoulder. “Figured I’d show up here, see if you were still the girl of my dreams.”

“And?”

“Not even I could dream up _you,_ Janna.”

“You’re really dumb,” said Jenny, and she rolled onto her side and kissed him again. “You’ve still got all summer to change your mind.”

“Gonna try and scare me off?”

“You scare easily, Rupert. It wouldn’t be too hard for me to do it.”

“Fuck off,” said Ripper, laughing, and tugged her into a hug, burying his face in her hair. Jenny beamed, snuggling into his arms.


End file.
